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This story serves to substantiate what psychical investigations, as well as occult and spiritual organizations have been unable to prove – that Death does not annihilate us. Something survives, which is immortal and beyond the reach of Death.

About thirty-one years ago, at Onitsha in the Eastern province of the Federation of Nigeria, I was admitted into the General Hospital, critically ill.  My body was reduced almost to a skeleton and affected by paralysis with its attendant complications. Only my heart, brain and eyes escaped the ravages of the illness.

I was placed on the danger list and the chances of my surviving were reasonably doubtful.  Neither solid nor liquid food could pass through my throat.  The doctor gave me less than an hour to live.

As I lay waiting for his prediction to be fulfilled, a friend came to visit me.  He encouraged me to battle, to fight for my life, as it was not his wish that I should leave him so early in life.  I closed my eyes and turned my thoughts within and prayed to God to spare my life so that I might cultivate those virtues and powers that would help me to secure emancipation for my immortal soul.

When I opened my eyes, my friend had gone.  In his place, standing at the side of my bed, was a Catholic priest who pleaded with me to allow him to convert me to Catholicism so that I might receive the last Sacrament – Extreme Unction – before death swept me from this life to a new existence.

I told the priest that I was not prepared to surrender to Death at that moment.  I did not possess those virtues which would be my only assets I the life after death.  What I needed most, I said, was Devine Healing, and if he was not in a position to help me in this way, then he should not concern himself with my death.  He promised to pray for me, but as he did not come to the ward again in his daily visits to the hospital, I took it for granted that he did not fulfill his promise.

The hour passed and I still clung to life.  My struggle with death was aided by my faith that God would answer my prayer.  I continued to pray, and to affirm, “I shall never die.”

This combat lasted over a fortnight and although resolute in my faith and determined to conquer death, my body was growing weaker and weaker every day.  Finally, the darkness of death descended upon me one night, at about 9:30.  I observed that the spiritual counterpart of my physical body was standing, with full consciousness, by the side of the bed.  I started to speculate on the reasons for this division – the phenomenon which indicated to me what Death really was.

In that etheric atmosphere, I observed that some of the other ward patients were awake.  I went near to them and spoke, but they could neither see nor hear me.  Another peculiar experience which came to me in this state was that I could see through the walls and the ceiling.

A few minutes after I was separated from my physical body, the nurse on night duty entered the ward.  Observing that my body was lifeless, he drew the blanket over it until its face was covered.  Then I left the room.

While journeying through the air to the province of the Unknown, I sighted in the distance a walled City and took the course toward it.  I circled the City three times but could not find the Gateway to enter.

Then I met another spirit, traveling to the same City, so I accompanied him.  This time the Gate was opened by the porter who, after checking my partner’s name on the list of names on the Scroll he was holding, admitted him.  I tried to enter also, but he stopped me and asked for my name.  He scrutinized the names on his list but he did not find mine.  Therefore he refused to let me enter.

I started to wander in that vast etheric plane alone until I sighted two entities far off.  I went in their direction to join them.  As I approached, I recognized on of them, a Dr. Kwegyir Aggrey.

“Archibald,” he exclaimed.  “You look so tubercular.  What’s the matter with you?”

I told him of my situation and my illness.  Then he introduced me to his spiritual partner, one Bishop James Johnson.  The Bishop, seeing my pitiable condition, invited me to draw near to him and asked if I really could not swallow anything.  I told him this was truly the case.  Then he touched my throat and uttered, “You are cured” with divine authority.  I returned immediately into my physical body which was then lying on a cement slab in the mortuary, amid other corpses on the ground.  It was dawn and the birds nearby were chirping happily.  I swallowed my spit to certify that I could now swallow and felt no more pain in the throat.

A few minutes later, the door of the mortuary opened, and the head nurse came in, leading a group of people (presumably relatives and friends) coming to remove my corpse.  They withdrew in amazement and confusion upon discovering that I was alive. The next persons I saw were the hospital servants with a stretcher.  I was carried back to the ward.  I called for food, as by this time I was quite hungry.  Pap was prepared and given to me in a feeding cup.

In a fortnight’s time, the spirit of the Bishop appeared to me in a vision and helped me to sit up.  He stayed by my side for a while and then departed.  The following day I tried to sit up through my own efforts for a short period, and thereafter repeated the sitting exercises often.

The doctor then suggested that I should try to obtain an easy-chair for the purpose of taking sun baths every day.  I sent the message to a relative the same day, due to the urgency of getting it, but met with disappointment.  However I was hopeful that God, being perfectly acquainted with my exact situation and the necessity of procuring such a chair, would provide me with one at the opportune time.

About three A.M. the next day I heard a rap on the frame of the door near my bed.  I looked, and saw an outstretched hand with a packet for me.  I did not see the person, who apparently did not care to show himself, but he did say, in an unfamiliar voice, that he would return at dawn to deliver the message accompanying the packet.  I opened the packet and found that it contained three pounds, a sum which covered the cost of the chair.

No one appeared at dawn, and an hour later a friend paid his usual morning visit.  I gave him the money and sent him to purchase the chair.  When the doctor came for inspection at eight o’clock, the chair was ready for the prescribed service.

The messenger never did reappear with any message concerning the packet.  Because of my contact with discarnate entities at that time, I assumed that he was, or might have been, a materialized spirit.

Another fortnight passed and the spirit of Bishop Johnson again appeared to me in a vision.  This time it was to complete his mission.  He helped me to stand and to walk about the ward and back to the side of my bed.  Then he called “Kwegyir”, and Dr. Aggrey appeared.  The Bishop pointed to me and said to Dr. Aggrey, “I have finished my duty”.  Then both spirits, with smiles on their faces, cheerfully waved their hands, bidding me good-bye, and vanished.

I tried to stand the next day, by holding onto the frame of the door.  My stiff joints gave way, cracking like dry wood.  The nursing sister was in the ward and she quickly came to help me.  She held my hand and asked me to try again to use my legs.  I did so in a manner similar to a child learning how to walk.  A crutch was supplied to aid me in the walking exercise.  

When, finally, my condition improved so that I was able to dispense with it, I was discharged from the hospital.  This is how I was healed through the mediumship of a discarnate entity.

My survival was a marvel to the medical officer, the nurses who were aware of the seriousness of my condition when I entered the hospital, and friends who came out of curiosity to the hospital to see me, the “living ghost”.

The foregoing statement is a factual account and bears witness that life is a voyage to Eternity, and that discarnate entities in the higher planes can and do participate in our concerns and render to us services of diverse nature (especially healing) if needs be, according to the Will of God.

It is almost thirty-one years now since that remarkable divine cure was given me.  During those years, I pursued courses taught by various occult institutes to enable me to contact my overself, and to attain the necessary spiritual and moral virtues, but from my own experience, such attainments were difficult and, finally, proved elusive and unattainable, as a pursuit after a gilded rainbow.

But as God would have it, I came across an advertisement for “The Path of Subud” in a Theosophical magazine.  The name “Subud” attracted me and, consequently, I ordered a copy of the book and read it through.  What I read gave me confidence that Subud would satisfy my soul’s cravings.  I thank God that through His infinite mercy and grace, I was opened on the 7th of January, the first Sunday of this year, 1962, by Dr. Charles Hoar, a Pathologist, living in Kaduna, Northern Province of the Federation of Nigeria.

In conclusion, I solemnly pledge to undergo the Subud training and keep to its principles in order to attain the moral perfection and spiritual bliss needed to qualify me for the new existence hereafter, so that when the Supreme call comes, I will resign my being cheerfully.

May the blessing of God be on all the members in the movement.

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